


Understand Me

by DarkestChasm



Category: Naruto
Genre: Akatsuki - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Narutoverse, Uchiha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 07:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11664498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkestChasm/pseuds/DarkestChasm
Summary: Jaida isn't Rin. She knows this, yet she still falls for the man who can't seem to get over her. She just wishes he'd stop pretending to be happy with her when he wishes for Rin.





	Understand Me

He'll never understand.

I know he won't. His soft breathing shows me that he is both exhausted and comfortable. Something he shouldn't be allowed to be. But he is. He has his naked body close to mine and, while my heart is feeling loved and pure, my mind is racing. Anger suddenly makes me frown as I look at him.

I know that he mouths her name when we make love. It's never my name, because he doesn't see me. He sees her. The girl who ignored him and his affections, but, nevertheless, I'm here. In his bed. Letting him molest my body and do what he wants with me.

All because I'm selfish. Because while I say I'm here to make him happy, I know I'm not really making him happy, that I'm the one getting the most out of this relationship. He is hurting and nothing I can do will fix that. It makes me sad and angry and hopeless because I can't do anything to make him happy.

I want to tell him. As I watch him breathe easy he looks beautiful. He always looks beautiful to me, though. Even when he cries. When he comes home bloody. When he comes stumbling back, scarred and bleeding and bruised, even then he is still the most beautiful man I have ever met. But now, in the peace and stillness of the night I want to tell him that I know I don't make him happy. I want to ruin the stillness and the fake happiness because it makes me feel guilty. Because it is fake and being selfish means I want to get what I want and I want something _real_.

I stare at him and admire the hard curve of his chin, the smoothness of his skin, even the fake parts of his body are smooth. His long dark hair falls gracefully around his face, framing his long lashes and just brushing his chapped lips. He doesn't understand emotions like I do, he just thinks he is happy. Like a naive child he thinks that if he pretends or wishes hard enough it will come true.

I open my mouth to speak, to wake him and tell him what I know will just confuse and hurt him more, because he won't understand that what we have is fake, but I close my mouth and stop glaring at him. I relax my face and let my lips open to let out a sigh. I shift over on my side so that we are facing each other and reach out a hand, moving the hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. His breathing changes and I smile. He is awake.

My heart stops like it always does when he looks at me and I find that his eyes are the normal black. My mind forces my mouth open to speak, yet my heart grabs onto my tongue and rages with my mind, telling me that I am happy and that is what should matter. But I don't like selfish people. Even so, I say nothing and let my hand drop from his hair.

The look he gives me makes me think he knows what I am thinking, though I know he has no idea what I'm thinking. Even so, the look makes me worry and I again frown, this time pouting slightly just to comfort him, so he thinks I am thinking about something small and trivial. It is an unconscious thing that I don't even register doing: making myself seem slightly troubled when I'm really more than just slightly troubled.

It doesn't help that he falls for it every time, either. I watch, my mind spitting horrible things at my heart, as he frowns, too. He reaches a warm hand up to my face and traces my jaw with the tips of his fingers. "What is it?" He asks in his deliciously deep voice.

I blow out air and unconsciously tilt my head into his fingers. "I think I'm on my period, but I don't want to move to check." It is an easy lie and he doesn't think anything of it. He is amused and a small smile spreads on his lips. I smile too. Not for the same reason, though. It's in triumph that he doesn't see through my lie.

Then his smile turns a little devious and he shifts to be propped up on his elbow as a mischievous look passes over his face. He leans in close and whispers, "Want me to find out?"

I can't help it. I giggle and he stifles it by molding his lips to mine in a needy way. I find it hard to believe he wants to go for a round three - even if he was gone for a couple of weeks - but I'm caught in the moment as his passion lights the fire only he can state. His large and warm hands trail down my body and he expertly uses his hands to explore my core. He plays me like an instrument and all thoughts of telling him my real wishes flood from my mind.

It can wait, I ultimately decide as I reach out to touch him, too. As guilty as I feel, nothing beats delicious moments like this.

I smile into the kiss once I register that is what happened next and moan a little from his touch. I giggle when we break away and drag him on top of me. He is smiling too. Unlike mine, though, his smile is broken because he isn't happy. Not really. But my smile is radiant and pure and my mind sighs as my heart wins out and I'm lost in him.

My mind takes note of every time he mouths her name, even as I moan his. We play rough. My nails trail red marks down his back as well as his chest, and he bites my shoulder, sucking and leaving hickeys. I tease him by leaving wet kisses down the side of his neck, nibbling on his ear the way I know he likes it. He teases me by toying with my breasts.

It is rare to hear him moan, mostly he just mouths her name, grunts and pants. It is special to me to hear him moan and he moans this round. The rough, delicious sound takes me over and he follows soon after.

He doesn't collapse on me, instead he pulls out and collapses next to me. He has his arms open and I take the chance to shift into his chest and he wraps an arm around my waist, the other one resting at his side. I am curled next to him, one hand on his chest, the other intertwined with the one on my hip. My heart again feels loved and happy.

I'm happy.

Yet as I hear him let out a sigh I know I'm failing in making him happy. The guilt crashes like a frenzied wave and "I'm sorry" threatens to come out as I let out a yawn. Like usual, the yawn brings tears to my eyes and I blink them away. I glance up at him to see him looking down at me and I frown at the sad look he is giving me.

I take my head off of his chest to look at him better and tilt my head in question. Though I know he is unhappy, he never fully showed me before. It makes me think back to confessing. Makes me think I should leave him, just to keep him happy. Find him someone else that can bring him better happiness. Maybe a girl who looks more like her. I know I don't with my long curly hair and green eyes. But as I stare at him, waiting for him to tell me to leave, to tell me that he doesn't love me, waiting for him to break my heart, he does nothing. We gaze at one another for a tense moment, then he squeezes me tighter and looks away at the wall.

Knowing he will just try to forget ever looking at me like that, I won't let it go for his sake and mine, and I open my mouth to confess because one of us has to. My happiness has faded and now my heart aches. I've known since the beginning that he was the man I would end up dying for whether it be keeping his secrets or of heartbreak, either suited me. Another selfish thing about me. Another thing I know would hurt him.

I shake my head, the throbbing of my heart pounding in my chest. I sigh and say it. "I know I do not make you happy..." My heart shatters when his eyes snap to mine instantly. Subconsciously, I had hoped he would try to play it off. His expression is unreadable, well, not really. His emotions are clear on his face, but my mind doesn't register them. I'm too focused on confessing. It all tumbles out like a waterfall when I move my eyes to his chest so that I can keep up the courage to finish what has been bugging me. "I know you mouth her name. I'm sorry I'm not like her. I wish I was her. I want you to be happy. I really do... I'm sorry I can't do that. I'm so sorry." I pull away from him. He gives no resistance, my heart breaks more because this is where my heart told me he would pull me back and tell me I'm wrong. He watches me scoot to the edge of the bed.

I refuse to look at his face as I get off of the bed, but I hear him following me off the bed and I am scared. When he is hurting he is unpredictable. I honestly have no idea what he is going to do. It clicks in my head now that I'm off the bed and away from him that the look on his face was confusion.

So as I slip on my clothes that he had ridden me of earlier in the night, I glance over at him to see him giving me an amused look. It makes me stop putting on my pants and I give him a dull look, was he really amused that I'd figured it out? He rolls his eyes and steps close to me, scooping me in his arms. I tense at his touch, slightly worried about his unpredictability, and he frowns.

"Jaida." I look at him. He never calls me by my name unless he wants my full and undivided attention. I'm too used to following his rules, yet I can't seem to care that my body follows his orders. My heart flutters at how my name sounds coming from him. I look in his eyes. They are still black. He sits down on the bed making me sit on his lap with just my underwear on and my pants around one ankle. "Forgive me, but you misunderstand," he mutters as he kisses my temple. I lean into the kiss, craving him and his affection against my better judgement.

I love him. Even if I don't make him happy and my heart is broken; I love him.

"How?" I ask, my voice dead. It hurts me to hear him lie. I know that he mouths her name. He has to be lying. It makes me feel sick.

He nuzzles his nose in my hair and takes his time answering, breathing me in. "Because I'm asking forgiveness for falling in love with another." His voice so soft that my mind won't wrap around the words he has just said.

I make no response and I feel him squirm under me, impatient. His body language tells me he isn't lying. Sweet nothings aren't his style, so he isn't lying. He isn't lying...

My throat is tight, but again my heart is singing. He never tosses around words, he always speaks confidently. Hearing him sound so small and guilty is just as rare as hearing him moan, except it is even sweeter a sound because it means he is sorry. An apology in his own way, because he knows he should have realized I had a problem with it.

I look into his searching eyes and see that they aren't hurt, but scared. Afraid of rejection. Like I would ever reject him. I can't speak, so I show him I understand by returning the nuzzle and kissing the bottom of his chin. My head finds its way to his shoulder and I wrap my arms around him.

The relief hits both of us. Something I'm not expecting is for him to so desperately clutch onto my body, but he does. Wrapping me in a tight hug and letting out a shaky sigh. It makes my heart sing knowing now that he actually needs me, that he does want me. Not her. Not the girl who ignored him and his affections. But me, the girl who fell in love with him.

I relax in his grip and kick my pants off. We both give light sighs of content and he falls back, letting my upper body fall to his side while my legs stay over his body. I refuse for there to be any kind of distance between us and I snake around him, pulling him in and trapping him with my legs. He tangles himself with me, too, and we fall asleep tangled together.

My dreams are sweet and kind. No nightmares tonight for me. But it is different for him. He does have nightmares and they wake me. His chakra bursts alarm my body and force me to tense against him while he breathes heavy and roughly. He has night terrors often, but, luckily, tonight it is just a nightmare. Even so, he is bawling and I don't have to see his face to know his Sharingan is fully activated.

I find it sweet that he tries to keep quiet and his body from shaking too much, but like him, I am a light sleeper. His tears fall on my forehead and I know I have to do something because I can feel how terrified he is, how every muscle is clenching and I can hear his teeth grinding together, keeping back a scream. He and I are already wrapped around each other, so I tighten my arms and legs around him and mutter, "Shh, shh." I pet his hair and rest my forehead against his chest.

He gives up trying to be quiet and crushes me in a hug, sobbing. I feel tears gather in my own eyes because watching him like this breaks my heart. I'm torn on asking him what it was about, but then my mind reminds me that it will help him sleep and so I ask him once he starts to calm down a little.

"You."

He doesn't get any more specific and so I leave it at that. But the way he says it makes me frown and release tears of my own, because in its own way it is again the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me.

Sniffing, I tilt my head back and give him a watery smile, even with tears and snot on his face he looks stunning and perfect in my eyes. "You are still so sweet," I mutter, wiping his tears with my thumbs. He sniffs, eyes on mine, and I use the collar of his shirt to wipe off the snot from his beautiful face. I chuckle softly, "You have snot all over your face."

He laughs, too, because he is refreshed by my bluntness. He kisses my forehead and we unwrap from each other. Instead we take on a less tangled position and I let him fall asleep first so that I can watch him sleep. I'm happy I confessed, because I know he understands my love.


End file.
